


Midnight Clear

by Andromache_42



Series: SPN Advent Calendar 2019 [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel Wings, Angels are known, Boys Kissing, Christmas, Guardian Angel!Castiel, M/M, Supernatural Elements, profound bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21813904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromache_42/pseuds/Andromache_42
Summary: Castiel anticipated the tug before he felt it. He sighed deeply, marking his spot in his book and setting it gently on the desk in front of him. A glance at the timekeeping device on the wall showed him it was nearly midnight, Christmas Eve, for his charge. Whatever Dean needed him for now could probably wait until after the next day’s festivities, but the tug was insistent, nagging at him to respond.And Dean knows that, Castiel thought irritably, flicking his wings into the ether and shrugging into his trench coat. It had been a long time since he’d done this, but his grace remembered what to do.Written for Supernatural Advent Calendar 2019Day 6: Angel
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: SPN Advent Calendar 2019 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561129
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	Midnight Clear

Castiel anticipated the tug before he felt it. He sighed deeply, marking his spot in his book and setting it gently on the desk in front of him. A glance at the timekeeping device on the wall showed him it was nearly midnight, Christmas Eve, for his charge. Whatever Dean needed him for now could probably wait until after the next day’s festivities, but the tug was insistent, nagging at him to respond.

_And Dean knows that_ , Castiel thought irritably, flicking his wings into the ether and shrugging into his trench coat. It had been a long time since he’d done this, but his grace remembered what to do.

It was frigid and snowing when Castiel touched down on Earth, and even though he couldn’t feel the weather, he was still annoyed at being brought down from the comfort of Heaven.

“Hey, Cas.”

No matter how long it had been since Castiel heard that voice, it still made his heart skip a beat. The longing that tugged at him hadn’t lessened by proximity; if anything, it was even stronger. Castiel rubbed a hand across his chest, knocking his tie askew, before he turned to face Dean.

Dean had aged, but his soul was still as bright as ever. The edges pulsed, vibrated with whatever Dean was feeling at the moment. Castiel yearned to know, but he’d promised Dean long ago he’d never read his mind. He would honor that oath, even if Dean no longer remembered the circumstances in which it had been given.

“Why have you called me here?” Castiel demanded, and watched as Dean’s face fell.

“I, uh . . . been a while since I saw you, and . . . well, it’s Christmas, so I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to be alone?”

“Dean, I’m a member of the Heavenly Host. I have six thousand brothers and sisters. On today of all days, I won’t be alone.”

Dean nodded, looking down at the ground. He was shivering, Castiel noticed for the first time, pulling his jacket around himself. “You’re cold.”

“’S not bad.”

“You aren’t dressed appropriately for the weather.”

“I’m fine, Cas.”

The silence stretched long between them, the tug within Castiel’s chest growing sharper. The snow was collecting in Dean’s hair.

“You should get inside,” Castiel said. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but closed it quickly as Castiel raised an eyebrow. Dean gestured at the cabin behind him.

“Do you wanna come in?” he asked, meeting Castiel’s gaze in a challenge. After being called, Castiel could not leave again until he was released by his charge, though he was not required to remain in the same location. Dean knew that Castiel was free to refuse.

“All right,” Castiel replied. Dean nodded once again, then turned around with his shoulders hunched against the wind and led Castiel into a small cabin.

It was well-kept and homey, with a single living area and kitchen and a hallway leading off to the side with two closed doors. Castiel sensed they were alone, though there was a fire crackling away in the fireplace and a Christmas tree lit up with white lights. Jazzy Christmas music emanated from a record player in the corner. He couldn’t help but smile a little, even as his chest ached.

“Are you living here?” Castiel asked.

“For now,” Dean said, stomping snow from his boots and hanging his jacket on a hook beside the door. “Here, let me,” Dean added, reaching for Castiel’s snow-covered coat.

“Oh, I can just—” Castiel lifted his hand to use his grace to remove the snow, but Dean took a step forward, insisting.

“Gimme your coat, dude.”

Castiel slid the trench coat from his shoulders, strangely feeling a little exposed in the middle of Dean’s living room. He did surreptitiously clear his shoes and hair of any stray snowflakes.

Dean made himself busy with something in the kitchen while Castiel stood in the center of the room. Something was clearly bothering him, but Castiel had known Dean since he was a teenager and knew that if he was going to share, it would be in his own time.

Eventually, Dean came back into the room with two open bottles of beer; he offered one to Cas before he took a long sip. The silence stretched out between them until Dean huffed a laugh. “Still an awkward son of a bitch, huh?”

“Angels don’t change as readily as humans. I suppose I do appear unchanged to you.”

“How about me? Do I appear, uh, ‘changed?’”

Dean’s soul shimmered golden just beyond mortal sight. Castiel smiled softly. “Yes.”

A delicate blush climbed up Dean’s throat to color his cheeks as he took another deep drink. In the low glow of the Christmas tree lights, Castiel could count the freckles splayed across Dean’s nose.

“So you still come when I call, I guess.”

Castiel sipped lightly at his beer. He’d never really acquired the taste, even though Dean had spent most of his early twenties trying to convince Castiel to drink with him or accused him of “wasting it.” It didn’t really matter; the extra he’d bought would be gone by morning, anyway.

“You know the contract. A guardian answers the call of their charge until the connection is broken.”

“Guess I fucked that up for you.”

Castiel didn’t reply. The guardian connection was not meant to last this long into adulthood; most of his peers had moved on to other charges long ago. But when Dean had made his decision, it had put Castiel into a kind of limbo. He could not take another charge until the connection was dissolved, but when he imagined no longer being tied to Dean . . .

“Listen,” Dean said suddenly, avoiding Castiel’s gaze. “I know it’s been a long time, and . . . and I dunno if maybe you might feel different now, but—I, um—”

“Dean, you don’t—”

“No, let me finish. Cas, I fucked up. I was selfish, but I can fix it. I can fix this for you.”

Castiel’s heart raced. “What do you mean?”

Dean took a piece of crumpled paper out of his pocket, clutched tightly in his fist. His face was determined. “Sammy found it. He found the words. All I gotta do is say them, and you’re free.”

Castiel’s throat was dry as he struggled to speak. “Do you—is that what you want?”

“It’s what _you_ want.”

There was despair and terror in his chest, but Castiel wasn’t entirely sure it was all his own. “What if it isn’t?” Castiel breathed. Dean’s eyes shot up from the floor to stare him down.

“What do you mean?”

“Dean, all of those years ago, what if what I wanted . . . what I thought you didn’t . . . I thought, maybe . . . but then you said no, and I went back to Heaven . . .”

Dean’s eyes went wide. “You wanted to bond?” he managed. Castiel hung his head.

“You have it very wrong. I am the one who has been selfish. Knowing you’re here,” he placed a hand on his own chest, “has been the warmth in my existence.”

Dean was silent for a very long time, but the feeling that was swelling Castiel’s heart to impossible sizes kept him from fleeing the cabin. The record player had turned itself off a while ago, leaving them in silence while the fire crackled in the background.

“Ask me.”

Castiel blinked, startled into making eye contact with Dean. Carefully, Dean slid the mostly full beer bottle from Castiel’s fingers, his proximity enough to make Castiel’s breath catch.

“Dean . . .”

“ _Ask me_.”

Castiel licked his lips, hope burgeoning in his chest. “Dean, will you . . . would you do me the great honor of . . . of bonding with me?”

Dean’s eyes and soul shone brightly as he said firmly, “ _Yes_.” Suddenly Castiel had arms full of Dean, surrounded by him, overwhelmed by him, as his former charge grabbed him by the collar and reeled him in for a desperate kiss. Castiel whimpered into it as he sagged into Dean’s arms, clinging tightly as they kissed for the first time since that fateful night long ago. Dean pulled back slightly to lean their foreheads together.

“I love you,” Castiel murmured.

Dean kissed him again, hard, before moving to breathe into his ear, “Bring them out for me.”

Castiel shivered, then with a thought, brought his wings out from the ether. They filled the small space around them, dark and towering. Dean leaned back to take them in, awe on his face.

“I love you, angel.”

Somewhere above, the Host began to sing, while in a tiny cabin in the middle of the woods, an angel and his charge were quiet and warm and wrapped up in each other and the guardian angel’s wings.


End file.
